


Red vs. Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles Part 3

by BentleyGirl



Series: RvB Novelizations [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Humor, Novelization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BentleyGirl/pseuds/BentleyGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In their chase after O'Malley, the Reds and Blues find themselves separated on other worlds and with a bounty on one member's head. Reuniting on the icy planet Sidewinder, the two teams are suddenly flung across time. What new dangers await the Blood Gulch Crews?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> From this point on, there will be small moments that won't be featured in the original series.
> 
> Spanish translations available for the chapters where Lopez has a speaking role.
> 
> Note: I do not own the Red vs. Blue series or Halo. They respectively belong to Rooster Teeth and Microsoft.

The relative peace of the little canyon known as Blood Gulch was broken by the painful groans of a wounded soldier, his aqua armor stained in his own blood. Another soldier in pink armor sat by his side, doing his best to comfort him.

"Come on, Mr. Blue guy," Private Donut begged. "You gotta wake up. Wake up!"

"It hurts," Private Tucker moaned, struggling to move. "Just let me die."

"You can't die, I'm bored!" Donut cried. "All these girls wanna talk about is chick stuff, and not the fun chick stuff like ribbons and unicorns."

Behind them, Freelancer Tex was having a pleasant chat with the Blues' tank, Sheila. "I don't have treads," Tex said. "But I often find them staring at things they _really_ shouldn't be."

"You see?" Donut clarified. "Boring stuff like oppression, and a hostile work environment."

With a huge amount of effort, Tucker finally managed to roll onto his side. "Get Doc... I need Doc..."

"I can't," Donut replied. "He got possessed by that evil guy and they escaped. He's the one that shot you, don't you remember?"

"I know," Tucker winced. "I want him to shoot me again."

"Now, now, now," Donut scolded, waving his finger condescendingly. "Looks like someone's got a case of the 'poor mes'. If you were gonna die, you would have done it by now! Maybe you'll just need to realize you're gonna have to live with intense pain."

"Get that Sarge guy," Tucker grunted. "Have him make me a new body."

"We can't," Donut sighed. "We're out of parts because we overused that joke. And Sarge left with the others to chase Doc." He turned towards the Red Base to look at the teleporter. "But don't you worry. They left a long time ago, so I'm sure they'll be back any minute. Simmons had a fool-proof plan to catch him."

Unfortunately, Donut wasn't to know that, due to mysterious sabotage, the teleporter had separated the Reds and Blues, leaving them stranded in various new worlds...

* * *

In a distant complex, Private Simmons, Donut's teammate, wandered down the passages of teleporters, trying to find the others.

"Hellooooo?" he called. "Hello? Is anybody here?"

 He waited for a response but none came. "Just great," he sighed. "I guess we all got separated in the teleporter."

With that, he switched on his helmet radio. "Sarge, this is Simmons 2.0. Do you read me? Apparently your plan to chase Lopez and Doc has failed miserably. I appear to be stuck in some kind of nexus of teleporters, which could take me anywhere in the Universe... Or it's a janitor's closet. Hell, I don't fucking know." But nobody replied. "Sarge, are you there? Sarge?"

* * *

Meanwhile, in a creek at the center of a different canyon, Sarge, the leader of the Red Team, was also trying to contact the others.

"Hello, anyone?" he called over his radio. "Do you read me? Do I read you? Anyone? Anybody? Nobody? Okay."

With a sigh, he switched off his radio and waded back to Caboose, Tucker's teammate. "Well, I don't think the others are coming. They must have gotten separated somehow."

Caboose didn't hear him as he was looking down at his submerged legs. "My toes are getting pruny."

"O-kay," Sarge muttered, splashing out of the water. "Why don't we try to find O'Malley?"

"I know where you can find O'Malley," Caboose replied, following Sarge into the canyon. "He lived inside my helmet for a while, maybe he left an address to send his mail. We were like roommates."

"Sounds like he took some of the furniture when he left," Sarge chuckled. "And the carpet. And the drapes. And I wouldn't expect to get that deposit back, if you know what I mean."

 As they approached a base by the canyon wall, Caboose ran on ahead, hoping to greet whoever lived there, but as he turned a corner, he stopped. "Sergeant, look! A sleeping person!"

"What?" Sarge ran over to Caboose and gasped in shock. "Holy macaroon!"

Outside the base's entrance, a soldier in blue armor similar to Caboose's lay still in a pool of congealing blood. Sarge went up to the soldier, knelt down and felt for a pulse. "He's not sleeping, son... he's dead."

"Oh good," Caboose sighed in relief. "At first, I thought that was me, because I am blue and I like to sleep. But if he is dead, that cannot be me. That would be silly."

"No doubt he was killed by our very enemy," Sarge murmured grimly. "Once again, I find myself torn. On the one hand, there's one less Blue in the Universe, but now Doc's got a bigger body count than me! And that just won't do. No sir." He got to his feet and gave the dead Blue a solemn salute. "Rest in peace... scumbag."

Meanwhile Caboose ran to the other side of the base, looking for someone else, but again he stopped. "Look, more sleeping people!"

Sarge went after him and this time he didn't gasp, he just stared in stunned silence. The whole area in front of the base was littered with a dozen dead soldiers; half of them were in red armor like him, the other half were in blue armor like Caboose and the first dead soldier.

"It must be nap time." Caboose frowned in confusion. "But who has nap time now? Nap time comes  _before_ pants time, not after. I think these people are just making up times."

"What the Samuel Helsinki happened here?" Sarge breathed. "There must have been an enormous battle." Stepping into the open, he cupped his hands around his helmet's speaker and shouted across the area. "Hello! Is anyone okay? Are there any survivors? Preferably any Red survivors? But don't let that discourage you from speaking up if you're Blue. I won't step on your neck or anything like that."

"Am I allowed to answer?" Caboose asked.

Just then, some trumpet music began to play, softly at first but getting steadily louder.

"Shh, quiet," Sarge hissed. "You hear that?"

"Yes," Caboose replied. "That noise is called water. It is very wet and very sloshy."

"I was talking about the trumpet, Bluetard." Sarge strained his ears to listen, certain that he had heard that tune somewhere before.

"I have to go to the bathroom now for some reason," Caboose muttered uncomfortably. "Which is odd, because I already went when we were standing in the creek together."

As the music faded away, Sarge's eyes widened in realization. "Wait a minute, I know that song. That's Reveille. But why would someone be playing Reveille in the middle of a-"

"YEAH! WOOHOO!" Suddenly, every dead soldier in the field leaped to their feet, cheering and hollering in excitement.

"Sweet jibbly giblets!" Sarge cried.

"Running time!" Caboose yelled.

The soldiers then lined up in their respective colors and marched off across the canyon, passing Caboose and Sarge as they went. The Blue Team ran straight into the nearby base while the Reds charged through the creek and entered another base on the other side of the canyon.

Now Sarge and Caboose were all alone in the canyon.

"What just happened here?" Sarge asked, still baffled.

"I think all the sleeping people were just trying to-" Caboose started to say.

"That was rhetorical," Sarge cut in quickly.

Hearing shouts coming from the Blue Base's window, Sarge ran over and turned to Caboose. "Get over here and give me a boost."

"Okay." Caboose went up to Sarge. "You are a good person, and people say nice things about you."

"Not a moral boost, moron," Sarge snapped. "A physical one. I need to see what's in that window."

Caboose looked up at the window then back at Sarge. "That window is very high. I don't think you are tall enough."

"I know," Sarge sighed, his patience wearing thin. "I need you to help me look through it."

"I don't think I am tall enough either. Also, my head is round, that window is square."

"Come here, you." Sarge knelt down and cupped his hands on the ground. "Now, put one foot onto my hands."

"Okay." Caboose raised his foot and stepped hard onto Sarge's hands. "Like this?"

"Ow!" Sarge yelped. "That'll do. Now, get your other foot onto my shoulder."

Bracing himself against the Base's wall, Caboose did as he was told.

"Now I'm gonna heft you up. Try not to fall out." Sarge carefully got to his feet, lifting Caboose up to the window.

"Whoa," Caboose gasped, almost losing his balance, but he didn't fall back.

"What do you see?" Sarge asked.

Caboose looked through the window. "I see... a room."

"And? What's in the room?"

"There are some walls, and some ceilings. Wait... just one ceiling."

"What's making that racket?"

Inside the room, Caboose could see the Blue Team gathered around a flag, chanting loudly. "Kill the Reds, kill the Reds, kill the Reds, kill the Reds, kill the Reds!"

Caboose gulped nervously. "You are not going to like it."

Sarge knelt down again, allowing Caboose to climb back down. "Caboose, I have a very bad feeling about-"

Just then, the trumpet music came up again, this time a faster pitched tune than earlier.

"What's that?" Sarge asked.

His answer came seconds later.

"CHAAARRRRRRRGE!" The Base's doors flew open and the Blue Team burst into the canyon, yelling at the top of their voices. At the same time, the Reds raced out of their base in a similar fashion, and all hell broke loose in the canyon!

As the two teams opened fire on each other, Sarge dragged Caboose out of harm's way. "Come on, Caboose. We gotta get to higher ground!"

A Blue soldier ran past them, firing his rifle, before pulling out a new clip. "Yeah I love reloading, I love to reload!"

As he turned a corner, a Red soldier jumped out and punched him right in the head. "Oh, back of the head!"

"D'oh!" the Blue yelped, falling to the ground. "Tell my girlfriend I love her."

"She's my girlfriend now, bitch!" the Red retorted.

Meanwhile, Sarge found a ladder built into the cliff and he and Caboose scrambled up onto a safe ledge to watch the carnage below.

"Sarge, I am scared of our new friends," Caboose whimpered.

"Hot Sonny Bono, what's going on here?" Sarge muttered.

At that moment, a Red soldier came running out of the Blue Base, carrying the Blues' flag on his shoulder. "Stop fighting, stop fighting! Everyone stop fighting!"

At once, the gunfire stopped and the two teams turned to look at the Red. "Everyone, everyone, look unto me! I possess the Blue flag!"

The Reds gasped in amazement. "It's more beautiful than I ever imagined!" one Red cried.

"I have seen the top of the mountain!" the Red soldier yelled, reveling in his moment of zealotry. "And you will worship me as though I were a God!"

But then four Blue soldiers surrounded the soldier like WWE wrestlers and beat him up mercilessly.

"I regret nothing!" the poor Red gasped as he died. "I lived as few men dared to dream!"

The remaining soldiers looked at the dead Red then they looked at each other, shrugged and resumed shooting.

One Red soldier pounded his rifle butt into a Blue from behind. "Hell yeah!" the Red cheered, seconds before he was shot in his head. "Oh no!"

"Head shot!" cheered a Blue with a sniper rifle. A split second later, a rocket blew him off the cliff. "Oh, you rocket-whore!"

Another Blue soldier took out the Red with the rocket launcher then ran out across the canyon. "Hey I got some, you want some? I got some for you! Come on you!"

As he ran, a Red shot him down then splashed through the creek. "The only good Blue is a dead Blue! Christ, this water's cold!"

On the other side of the creek, a Blue and a Red crouched down opposite sides of a boulder. The Red then stood up, fired a few times then ducked back down again. Literally a second later, the Blue also stood up, fired then ducked down again before the Red would parrot his movements. The ridiculous back-and-forth battle went on for a few minutes before a grenade landed by the Blue and blew up, taking him out.

"Weak!" the Red yelled at his teammate. "You took my kill!"

"I didn't see your name on it!" As the other Red ran past a boulder, a Blue soldier leaped out from behind hit and shot him down. "Oh you fucking camping bitch!"

"It's a legitimate strategy!" the Blue yelled, running across the canyon. As he neared the creek, the Red whose kill had been taken fired at him, driving him back. "Whoa!"

"Damn!" the Red yelled. He then realized how quiet the canyon had become. "Hey, Blue, we're the only two left! Let's work together!"

"What do you mean?" the Blue called out.

"I'm coming out!"

"Okay, I'm coming out too!"

The last solders standing met each other in the middle of the creek.

"What did you mean we could work as a team?" the Blue asked.

In response, the Red raised his rifle and smacked it in the Blue's face, taking him out. "I bash you in the head with my rifle and you die. Good teamwork, you fucking noob!" He then turned and yelled out into the canyon, "Good game, good game everybody! GG man, GG!" Then he was hit by a shot from nowhere and he fell down dead.

As silence fell in the canyon once more, Sarge looked around in utter bemusement. "I have no earthly idea what it is I just saw, or what this place is, or where in the hell O'Malley is! My only choice is to blame Grif for coming up with such a flawed plan. Stupid, stupid Grif."

"I am so confused," Caboose stated. "Where is Church? I need Church to tell me what to think. Church can handle this. He can handle anything!"

* * *

At that very moment, Church, the self-appointed leader of the Blues, was still trying to figure out how to escape his situation. He and Private Grif, Sarge's teammate, had woken up in the Red Base's cell on the ice planet Sidewinder with no weapons, no sign of their teammates, and no idea where O'Malley could be.

"Hey asshole," Church yelled, rattling the bars of his cell. "For the last time, LET ME OUT OF THIS GODDAMN JAIL CELL!"

"Yeah, let him out," Grif agreed. "He's driving me nuts!"

"Oh shut up, Red!" Church snapped. "Nobody asked you."

Grif sighed and bowed his head. "I should never have listened to Donut's stupid fucking plan."


	2. Visiting Old Friends

In the teleporter nexus, Simmons decided to see if he could reprogram one of the teleporters to get to his team. So combining his cyber-enhanced brain with his natural skills with electronics, he set to work on the teleporter's controls.

"Okay, let's see," he muttered, typing on a console with one hand and fiddling some wires about with the other. "If I wire this thing into that... maybe I could signal boost on that thing here... I might just be able to get that to work."

Just then, he heard the sound of gunfire, followed by a familiar voice shouting. "Caboose, Caboose, keep them away from me!"

Simmons looked up at the teleporter and gasped. Through the doorway, he could see a Red soldier and a Blue soldier standing back to back, firing at other Red and Blue soldiers charging at them.

"Get that one!" the Red soldier yelled in a familiar Southern accent. "And that one. No no, the one with the limp! Get 'im!"

"Sarge, is that you?" Simmons called, but the gunfire was too loud for them to hear.

"I don't want to kill," the Blue soldier shouted. "But, I don't want to die even more." Simmons was quick to notice that Caboose was mostly firing straight at the cliff beside him rather than the advancing armies.

"Caboose, can you hear me?" Simmons yelled.

"Yes, I heard you, Sergeant," Caboose replied, turning to the Red leader.

"I didn't say anything, numbnuts." Sarge killed off the last few soldiers standing then turned to face the rookie Blue. "Caboose, we have to break this neverending cycle of attack and retaliation, either by A) convincing the two sides to live in peace, or B) by getting ourselves completely involved and kicking some serious ass! I vote B."

Simmons chuckled and shook his head. "Yep, that's definitely Sarge."

"I have a plan, Sergeant," Caboose stated. "But we will have to move quick. Listen..." He leaned up to one side of Sarge's helmet and spoke very softly, though Simmons managed to catch the words. "Whisper, whisper, whisper..." Caboose then stood back with a smile. "Do you think that will work?"

"That's your plan?" Sarge asked puzzled. "All you said was 'whisper, whisper, whisper.'"

"I know," Caboose admitted. "I just wanted to be the one with the plan for once."

Simmons sighed and rolled his eyes. He could see now how that idiot had managed to blow up his own leader with their tank.

"Come on," Sarge sighed. "I have an idea."

As Sarge and Caboose ran out of view, Simmons turned back to the controls with renewed determination. Now that he'd found his leader, he had to work quickly if he was to get them out of that place...

* * *

Meanwhile, in another part of the galaxy, a lone soldier in tan armor marched outside the base on patrol and getting more and more pissed off about it.

"This sucks, man," he muttered crossly. "I have to do everything around here. 'Go guard the wall, Phil.' 'Go paint the jeep, Phil.' 'Go do everything, Phil!' This sucks."

Just then, he heard footsteps behind him and he spun around, drawing out his pistol. "What was that?"

But there was nobody there.

"Nothing," Phil sighed, putting away his gun. "Just that stupid sucky wind, breaking a twig, coming up behind me and... breathing real heavy..." He trailed off as he turned around again... and jumped at the sight of a white-armored soldier standing in front of him. "What the...?"

"Hello, mate," the soldier stated in a thick British accent.

Phil reached for his gun again, but the soldier punched him in the face, knocking him out...

* * *

A few hours later, Wyoming sat on a rock by the edge of a cliff a few miles from the base, checking out Phil's pistol as he waited for his hostage to recover. Though he was more comfortable with a sniper rifle, his current employers had insisted that he did his job thoroughly and only kill when they wouldn't cooperate.

At that moment, Phil let out a groan and sat up rubbing his head. "Oh man, this sucks," he muttered. "What's going on?"

Wyoming casually stood up and waltzed over to Phil. "Right, here's the way this works," he explained slowly and carefully. "I ask you a question, you tell me an answer. One question, one answer. I don't get the answer I like, we've got a problem." He then raised the pistol and pointed it at Phil's visor. "And if _we've_ got a problem, _you've_ got a problem. That clear?"

"Okay!" Phil yelped. "Just don't hurt me, I'm a single parent."

"Splendid," Wyoming beamed. "That's the attitude, old boy. Now, first question: Where are you hiding the plans?"

Before Phil could answer, Wyoming's helmet began to ring to the tune of Rule Britannia. The white soldier cleared his throat. "Ahem. Right, where are you hiding the-" But he could ignore the tune no longer. "Right, need to get that, one second."

Wyoming turned around and turned on his radio. "Hello? Yes, this is he speaking... Oh, hello! Yes... Right... Oh bugger... Uh, spell that with a T or an F, do you? Thought you said something else... No, I'll get right on it..."

"Getting bored," Phil muttered.

"Right, usual fee... He won't be a problem. No, I'll nip that one for you right away... Right, say hello to mum for me. Cheerio." Ending the call, Wyoming turned back to his captive. "Now, where were we...? Ah yes. Looks like it's your lucky day, mate."

"Oh, thank God," Phil sighed in relief.

With a sinister smirk, Wyoming cocked Phil's pistol and raised it again. "Don't have time to torture you, so I'm just going to have to kill you."

"Uh-oh man, this sucks!" Phil yelped his last words before Wyoming pulled the trigger and ended his life.

Wyoming flung the pistol over the cliff then pushed Phil's body after it. He now had a more important job to do, so he went back to his ship and set a course for Sidewinder, but not before paying his former employers a quick visit to tie up some loose ends...

* * *

Back in the wacky place that Sarge had dubbed Battle Creek, the Red Team were gathered once again in their base, psyching themselves up for the combat to come.

"Yeah, I'm gonna kill everybody!"

"Get the flag, get the flag, get the flag, get the fucking flag!"

"We must protect this house!"

"We must protect this house!"

"We must protect this house! This is our house!"

Then one Red happened to look into the room where their flag was stored. "Um guys, look, where's our flag?"

The others gasped and ran into the room. Frantically they searched around, but they couldn't find the flag anywhere. "No!" "The flag is gone!" "What will we do?"

One Red climbed onto a table to address the team. This was the zealous one that held the Blues' flag for a few moments many rounds ago. "If the flag is gone, who will lead us? Who will inspire us with their shiny pole? Who will flag directions to us in battle? We are lost! And the world as we know it is gone forever from our eyes, only to live in our memories as the days of salad and glory! Truly these are the end of times! REPENT! REPENT!"

The rest of the team just swapped baffled looks.

"This sucks, I'm leaving."

"Yeah..."

At that moment, the signal to charge came, but the Reds ran out with very little enthusiasm. On the other side of the canyon, the Blues also emerged in a very uninspired fashion. The two teams met in the middle of the canyon, where Sarge and Caboose were waiting for them on the cliff above.

"Oh Blue Team!" Sarge called down, waving the Blues' flag around. "Look what I have!"

"Oh Blue Team!" Caboose shouted, holding the Reds' flag. "Look what- Wait, I messed up my line. Let's start over."

The two teams looked up and stared in shock.

"They have our flag!" a Red soldier yelled.

"No, they don't, they have our flag!" a Blue soldier retorted.

"Listen, you morons," Sarge shouted. "You're gonna have to work for us now."

"What's in it for us?" the Red Grunt asked.

"Help us get out of here, and we'll give you back your flags," Sarge explained. "Then you can go back to senselessly killing yourselves."

"Deal," the Red Grunt replied. "Ha, sucker!"

"Wait," the Blue Grunt cut in. "Why don't we just kill you guys and take the flags back?"

"Hmm," the Red Grunt pondered. "Yeah!"

With a sigh, Sarge pulled out his pistol and shot the Blue in the head.

"Oh, you got owned!" yelled another Red. "I saw it, fucking owned!"

"Teams! Teams! Teams!" the Blues started chanting.

"Shut up!" the lead Red yelled. "Teams are fine!"

"Teams are fine!" the other Reds cheered. "Teams are fine!"

And inevitably, the teams' guns were drawn and the combat started again.

Sarge sighed and tossed the Blues' flag aside. "Caboose... I give up."

"Wait," Caboose cried, dropping the Reds' flag. "I can make them listen. I can beat them."

"Son, what are you talking about?" Sarge asked.

"O'Malley taught me how to be mean." Caboose closed his eyes and put his hand on his temple. "I just have to concentrate... on bad things! Like... milk! No, wait, red- Red Bull!"

"Son, I think you've really lost it," Sarge muttered, shaking his head. "O'Malley's not in your head anymore, he infected the Doc."

"No, I can feel him!" Caboose insisted, gritting his teeth. "I just need to get angry... and say mean things... like, uh... Your brain is a mountain of hatred!"

"I never thought I'd reach the moment in my life when I actually missed Grif..." Sarge let out a sniff. "But here it is."

By now, Caboose was concentrating harder than he had ever done in his entire life. His eyes were squeezed so tight that the skin of his forehead looked like it would tear off. "Now, I am thinking about... kittens! Uh, kittens covered in spikes! _That makes me angry!_ "

Just then his eyes flew open, and with a loud terrifying roar, he leaped right off the cliff and landed in the midst of the battle, so hard that the ground actually cracked underfoot.

The two teams stopped fighting and turned to stare at the soldier getting to his feet. " **My name is Michael J. Caboose,** " he growled with a face like the darkest storms and a voice like thunder. " **And I... hate... babies!** "

"It's the Beast!" the Red Zealot screamed in terror. "The Anti-Flag, come to live among us and rule us for seven years! The end is nigh!"

Caboose lunged out and punched the Zealot in the face. He attacked a Blue soldier then a Red. Then he grabbed the Red's gun and started mowing down the rest of the soldiers.

Sarge watched the carnage in undisguised horror. "Great Gustavo, what's goin' on down there?"

"Sarge, Caboose, can you hear me?" came a familiar voice behind him.

Sarge turned and saw a transparent green figure standing on the cliff. "Simmons 2.0?"

"Yes, sir," Simmons replied. "I reconfigured the teleporter to allow me to communicate with you. I need to get you guys outta there."

"Damn right we need to get outta here," Sarge agreed.

Simmons pointed towards the Blue Base. "Get to your teleporter, and I'll see what I can do from here."

"Okay!"

"And Sarge?"

"Yeah?"

"It's really great to see you again."

"Oh kiss my ass some other time," Sarge grunted, thought secretly he was also glad to see one of his men again.

"Whatever you say, Sir," Simmons replied as he faded away.

Sarge hurried down the ladder just as Caboose finished off the two teams and ran towards the Blue Base. "Come on, Caboose, before they wake up again."

" **I will eat your unhappiness!** " Caboose bellowed as he ran after Sarge.

They arrived at the teleporter just as the Reveille started playing again. "Hurry up, Simmons."

"Just give me a few more seconds over here, Sarge," Simmons called from the doorway.

"We don't have a few more seconds!" Sarge yelled.

"Stop pressuring me!" Simmons whined. "I rely on you for love and support!"

Caboose turned towards the canyon, ready to take on the next invasion. " **Your toast has been burned, and no amount of scraping will remove the black parts!** "

"Oh shut up, Caboose," Sarge snapped.

As the two teams woke up and started yelling, the teleporter gave a loud zap. "Okay there," Simmons called. "Come through now!"

"Come on, Caboose!" Sarge grabbed the rookie Blue and threw him into the teleporter then jumped in after him seconds before the teams came around the corner.

* * *

Simmons looked up as Caboose flew through the teleporter and crashed to the floor, followed closely by Sarge. "Whew," he sighed in relief. "That was pretty close, uh?"

"Simmons, you get an F in efficiency." Sarge then gave a smile. "But I have to give you an A+ in dramatic timing."

"Thank you, sir," Simmons replied. "I've always felt that presentation is what matters most."

Caboose then gave a hoarse groan and slowly stood up. "What happened?" he panted. "The last thing I remember was a very mean kitten. And then we were in the janitor's closet, and my throat hurts... a lot."

Simmons glanced through the teleporter, catching a glimpse of the gathered teams before it shut down. "What was that weird place, Sarge?"

"Simmons, I have absolutely no idea," Sarge replied simply.

* * *

Back in Battle Creek, the two teams milled around in confusion until they located their flags and picked them up.

"Well, I guess it's back to basics now!" the Red leader yelled. "Get ready for destruction, Blues! We're gonna kick your ass! We have become Death, Destroyer of Wor- Oh wait, hold on, I gotta take out the trash. I'll be right back."

 

 


End file.
